


Exchange

by Dream_Wreaver



Series: The Hidden Volumes [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bluebeard Fusion, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Potentially Mature Content, Read at own discretion, With A Twist, fairy tale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-15 03:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13604289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: She hadn't expected being a governess would cause her much trouble. But then, would anyone?





	Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> More fairy tales! I am just on a roll with these

There was never any question as to the idea of whether or not Nathalie would marry. She was too rational, too smart, too logical, and too emotionally detached for marriage. It put off every man of her station from marrying her and she could see through and push away fortune hunters before talks of marriage could even begin. She continued educating herself, until there was no facet of society that was unknown to her. Nathalie held intelligence on just about every subject imaginable, and could speak at length with an informed opinion on any topic being discussed.

It was therefore the consensus of men around her she would never make a suitable wife. She was too smart and strong-willed to be put under any of their thumbs. And so the years passed. Nathalie, however, did not wait around for her prince charming like some shrinking violet. She saw the course of her life years ahead of what would actually happen. And she continued studying, practicing her diction and ability to instruct. Eventually she did what all maidens who find themselves faced with eminent spinsterhood do, and she decided to become a governess. Simply because she couldn’t herself find a man by no means meant that she couldn’t advise other girls in the same search. As a matter of fact being a spinster meant being uniquely qualified to instruct young ladies as to what  _ not _ to do. And being a governess meant more freedom than a wife could hope to achieve until widowhood.

So she decided to advertise her services. And sure enough, she was hired near immediately. The Agreste household was known throughout Paris, namely because Lord Agreste had married into his title. He was obscenely wealthy, and the wealthy only seemed to keep increasing. It would have almost been odd, but he was a shrewd businessman, anyone could tell. Nathalie arrived to her meeting with the lord to discuss her terms of employment and stood in silent awe at the sheer opulence of the manor he’d built in the center of the capital.

Lord Agreste’s valet, a great hulking man who spoke no words, arrived and silently gestured for her to follow. She was led down an even more extravagant hall, lined with paintings and an ornate rug that silenced the sounds of footsteps, into a dark paneled office. A hand was held out, bidding her sit. And then the door closed. She was left alone. Time passed at a crawl as she waited for her future employer to arrive and she could finalize all the details. The clock beat a steady tick, tick, tick, tick from a spot in the corner. It took far more strength than it should have to keep from looking at it every few moments. It was a test, it had to be. He wanted to see what she would do if left to her own devices. The carpet would deter the signal given by footsteps coming down the hallway and make the time of reacting much smaller.

Stiffly Nathalie sat in her chair, chewing her lip and wringing her hands and trying everything in her power not to let her aggravation manifest itself. Late, he was late. If this meeting was nothing more than a final formality she would have already walked out. Ha, walk out on the richest and perhaps most influential man in all of paris who wasn’t the king? She’d never get work anywhere. She’d have to go live in the poor house. Poor but proud, sounded ideal in the novels but the reality was that pride couldn’t feed you, clothe you, act as a roof over your head. The poor houses were crowded enough as it was, she was not going to add to it.

At last the door opened and Nathalie let out a small sigh of relief. Footsteps echoed onto the polished hardwood as someone entered and strode about the room. The clicks were punctuated by a determined stride, heavy on the footfall as if he made no bones about his whereabouts. He wanted people to know, and he wanted them to grovel. Just to be obstinate and make him pay for wasting her time, Nathalie longed to stay seated. But, he was a lord, and moreover he would soon be her  _ boss _ , she couldn’t afford to. Her jaw clenched tightly as she rose in acknowledgement to him. She refused to curtsy, merely lowering her head in deference. He said not a word to her, and sat behind his heavy wooden desk. Dressed in midday finery, he looked every bit the nobleman he’d been for the last fifteen years. Cold, callous, calculated.

“Lord Agreste,” Nathalie bowed her head once more. She had to await his acknowledgement of her before she could sit down. That was how these things were done. He left her hanging as he began flipping through a pile of papers that had been left on his desk, taking a quill and scratching out a few marks on them. Nathalie could feel her hands curl and uncurl. She wanted to hit something, preferably the smug aristocrat’s face. But she knew impulses never led anywhere good. To help quash the urge she decided to clasp her hands tightly behind her back.

After another terse moment where she stood, silently seething at how much time he was wasting like this Lord Agreste glanced up and finally recognized her presence, “Sit,” he said.

It took careful control to let the sigh come out in short, inaudible bursts. Nathalie returned to her seat and waited. And waited. And waited. The desire to physically strike someone had never been so intense. But she felt it keenly, and placed her hands in her lap, demure, and shaking with the effort it took to keep them in a calm position. She was getting sick of this, and if he was just testing her without true intent to hire her Nathalie would rather he just come out and say so. She had other opportunities that awaited her if this didn’t work out. No, no, push it down. She was calm, she was logical, she could wait just as long as needed.

Finished with the stack Gabriel looked up and saw her still sitting there. Though, not with a curious expression, or a guilty one as though she’d looked at his documents while waiting. Nothing had been out of his place during his inspection of the room even after leaving her to her own devices for several minutes. And though her frustration was palpable, the moment he looked at her he saw her squash it down utterly for the sake of professionalism. She met his hard gaze unflinching, ready to speak with him if he would so allow it.

“You’re still here,” it held no inflection except boredom, as if he expected her to have gotten fed up and left in the interim of him signing documents.

“You said we were to finalize my contract today so that I might move in soon your Lordship,” she responded, “I keep my appointments.”

“I see,” he steepled his fingers, “And remind me again, who are you?”

He knew the answer already, he just wanted to see how she reacted. Again that brief flash of irritation in the flare of her nostrils as she drew breath before she neutralized her own emotions. Her expression was impassive as she replied,

“Mademoiselle Nathalie Sancoeur, the governess you wished to hire.”

“Ah yes,” Gabriel sat back in his chair, “I’d forgotten all about that.”

He was lying to her, though why he would she had no idea. Regardless, the handwritten note which matched none of the previous correspondence from the one who ran the household in the Lord’s absence said otherwise.

Nathalie sighed, “Lord Agreste, if I at all feel you aren’t taking this seriously I will be more than happy to leave. Clearly my presence is bothering you, and there are far better governesses out there-”

“No, stay,” he ordered her. Nathalie sat from her rise and he continued, “My apologies Miss Sancoeur,” he said, the sentiment clearly a placation and not meant genuinely at all, “I did not mean- well actually I did. You see it’s all part of the interviewing process of my household.”

Nathalie raised a brow, “Care to explain your grace?”

“You see Miss Sancoeur,” Lord Agreste steepled his fingers as he laced them together, “I need to have the utmost and absolute trust in my staff. I need to be able not to fear them rooting around when unsupervised, I need them to be able to hold their tongues and stifle their emotions for the sake of my… less than exemplary behaved guests. I need them to be perfect, in every sense of the word. Now, polite society as I’m sure you’re aware is full of backstabbing and underhanded methodology, all for the sake of ruining a peer’s reputation. And since my moniker is that of an ambitious social climber only after a title, you can imagine how many people in the ton wish to bring me down. And I’m certain I don’t need to detail the countless times a spy from some other jealous nobleman has attempted to infiltrate my staff.”

“You wouldn’t be telling me all of this if you didn’t trust me already,” Nathalie rationalized, “But how can you be so certain I am not the same?”

“I have many connections,” Gabriel replied, “And your background was searched extensively before you were even offered the position. I know I can trust you. You are a very simple, logical person. So long as I pay you, you will have no need to betray me.”

“And being that you’re the richest man in Paris, there’s no way anyone will be able to match what you intend to pay me?”

“The salary you will recieve is for more than just your work with my child,” Gabriel nodded, “It will be for your upholdence to my expectations of you. Do not disappoint me.”

“I shall endeavor not to,” Nathalie replied, “However, there is one concern I do admit to having.”

“And that would be?” Gabriel raised a brow.

“Your child, Adrien, is a boy,” Nathalie replied, “A young man of fifteen years. Surely he is too old for a governess. He should be at Eton or Oxford.”

“Filthy english institutions? Is that where you suggest I send my child?”

“Then surely you can afford to bring the best tutors in the world to your son.”

“I can,” Gabriel agreed, “However, I was expressly looking for a female educator.”

“Why?”

“As I’m sure you know my wife...” he paused as if pained, looking at a small frame he kept on his desk, likely a miniature of her, “my wife disappeared under rather…  _ mysterious _ circumstances. I have had no desire to remarry, but the lack of a maternal figure in the house is starting to effect Adrien adversely. He need’s a woman’s touch, so to speak.”

“I hate to disappoint you so suddenly,” Nathalie parried, “But I am not exactly the maternal type.”

“I’m aware of that, and I personally think that is another positive,” Gabriel responded, “I know that though you can educate and be a sympathetic ear, you will not get too attached to him. And when your term of employment is over, you will be able to make a clean break with him. Your lack of maternal bearing will also keep Adrien from seeing you in a way he shouldn’t.”

“And that would be?”

“My son is a very- that is to say, he was very close with my wife. To the point where a good bit of her personality rubbed off on him. Adrien is a dreamer, a romantic. He longs for a happy ending like all the fairy tales he used to read. I’m certain he believes my wife dead by now, for the sake of useless etiquette we’ve already had to observe a year of mourning. Now I fear that any female I bring into the house he will get close to. He wants me to move on when I have no intention of doing so. If a normal woman, or even a lady of the ton, were to be brought here he might get the wrong idea, especially if they plied him with maternal charm simply to get close to him in order to better their chances with me.”

“I see,” Nathalie nodded, “So my position as a governess, coupled with my inability to act as a doting mother figure, will not only make certain to push ridiculous romantic notions from his head, but also keep him from speculating over your own ends.”

“You are as smart as they come, aren’t you?”

“Considering I’m an aging spinster, I would certainly hope there was more I could claim than fading looks your grace.”

“Fading you say, I’m sure that a number of my other servants would disagree.”

“Will all due respect your grace, it sounds more like  _ you _ are insinuating it than any of them.”

“I can appreciate beauty where it appears before me Mlle. Sancoeur,” Gabriel said as he stood from his seat. Nathalie rose with him, “But you need not fear, I have no desire to fraternize with any of my staff in that regard.”

“Then the contract?”

“Ah yes,” Gabriel picked up a small packet of papers, “Everything in them is what we have thus far discussed. If you would sign,” he held out a quill to her.

When she was finished Nathalie handed the instrument back to him and he replaced it to the inkwell. “If that is all then our business is concluded,” Nathalie nodded and curtsied to him, “I shall be on my way then your grace.”

“Wait,” his neutral order made her pause, “I insist you stay for the night.”

“I have no supplies for a stay at the house,” Nathalie argued, “And I couldn’t possibly impose-”

“I insist,” Gabriel said, eyes hard as she stared at him, “There have been rumors circulating about the ton. Rumors that Hawkmoth is poised to strike again tonight.”

Hawkmoth, the butterfly man, and the most notorious criminal in all of Paris. He had an entire network of thugs and highwaymen at his beck and call, and he often sent out his goons to attack the poor wealthy members of the ton as they traveled through the night. Carriages, homes, no one was safe as his men appeared to slink through the night like living shadows. Safes, hidden spots, false walls, there was no manner of security measures that could be taken against him. And women had had a particular penchant for going missing if they were caught in the fray. Returned a few days later, unable to remember the events of what happened for the duration of their capture, but taken all the same.

“The journey home is long and arduous,” he continued, “and it will be dark well before you get home. I couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to such a capable employee before they even have a chance to start.”

“But-”

“No, you will stay here. I can provide you with a room and some essentials for one night. You can depart first thing in the morning.”

Nathalie could see that arguing with him was pointless. And he had already told her her job was to meet his expectations. He expected her to stay, and he was thinking of her safety. She was a spinster, a governess, if she were ruined no one would care. No one had wanted her anyways. And he had given his word that he would never approach her like that. Nathalie saw no more reason as to why refusing would be wise.

She sighed, “Very well your grace, I shall stay.”

MLB

Following that night Nathalie simply had all her things packed and moved. Lord Agreste had sent servants to obtain her trunks and her books. It said a lot that the sum total of her entire life up until this point took only three trips to move. The trunks and other items were delivered to the room where she had stayed, despite the room being far nicer than she should have stayed considering her status as an employed servant.

Adrien was an attentive young man, driven to perfection for the sake of his father’s acknowledgement. Nathalie noticed that that convenient little fact seemed to perpetually escape the lord’s notice. He primarily worked from home, signing documents, issuing orders, taking care of whatever business it was he was involved in. nathalie cared not to find out the specifics. There were certainly many expectations in the Agreste household, but surprisingly enough very few rules. Only two, in fact; behave in a manner befitting the Agreste name, and  _ never _ , under any circumstances, ascend to the top floor of the manor. It was completely and irrevocably off limits.

Again, something to wonder about in the rare moments of idle thought. But Nathalie wasn’t paid to ponder, she was paid to teach. Of course, giving Adrien practical lessons involved with leaving the house had not been specified as something not to do so she took the initiative to get the boy out of the house and interacting with people as often as she could. Adrien had taken a special liking to the stable boy, Nino, and his servant love Alya. they were good friends. And one whom adrien spoke to more than both of them, but had never met.

He had become penpals with the daughter of the best baker in the city, and made it a point to have his pocket change spent purchasing delicacies from her family’s store. His own way of supporting them, even if he wasn’t allowed to leave the grounds of his home. Nino and Alya would always make certain his letters got where they needed to go.

“Adrien? Adrien!” Nathalie admonished as she noticed the boy was utterly absorbed in his own little world, “You’re in lessons right now, please pay attention.”

Adrien shook himself out and put on a chastised expression, “Sorry Nathalie,” Adrien apologized, “I was just… I was thinking about-”

“It matters not what you were thinking about,” Nathalie rebuked, “You are  _ supposed _ to be thinking about listening to me.” she turned back to her books, “Now, let’s continue with-”

She turned again to see him distracted by the scenery outside his window. Nathalie sighed, she refused to be defeated, but the Agreste men had one similarity, when they were absorbed by something there was no getting through to them.

“Care to share?” Nathalie said flatly, stopping herself when she realized how harsh it sounded. She tried again, “I mean, is there something on your mind?”

“I,” Adrien bit his lip, looking very uncomfortable, “Nathalie you’re close with Father-”

This couldn’t be the beginning of anything good. Because what Adrien meant by her being close with his father was that she was the only one he had yet to insult for their incompetence, she was the only one he treated like somewhat of an equal, social class and positions of power be damned. Gabriel trusted Nathalie’s sense and would allow her to speak her opinion on matters if there was cause to. That’s how she was close with his father.

“I suppose I am,” Nathalie allowed, at least he wasn’t harboring any romantic delusions between her and his father. Too messy on all accounts.

“Do you think you could,” the rest was inaudible as Adrien decided to mutter it down at his desk.

Nathalie pinched her brows, “I can’t do anything if I don’t know what I’m being asked to do.”

“Could you… maybe talk to Father…”

“Speak with him about what, precisely?”

“I… I… I want to throw a party for my friends!” Adrien blurted out, hunching in his seat as though the admission would earn him scorn and ridicule.

Nathalie stood there, mouth gaping. He was an obedient child, for the most part, rarely asked for anything and when he did he was content even if the idea was rejected resolutely. It had clearly taken a good deal of thought and courage to ask about this. But she knew even with her intercession the answer would be the same. Still, if he asked this much of her, she should at least make the token effort, shouldn’t she?

“I-” she struggled to come up with an answer, “I’ll see what I can do. No promises though.”

Adrien looked at her a moment, then appeared to simply leap over the table and swept her up into an embrace. “Merci Nathalie!” he exclaimed.

Nathalie stood still as a statue, her arms locked in a position keeping her arms as far away from them as they could be while still remaining attached to her body. She wasn’t comfortable with this, she wasn’t comfortable with this at all. Outward displays of affection had never been a big thing in the Sancoeur family, and from what she’d been able to tell it wasn’t a big thing in the agreste household as well. Perhaps another bygone relic from the Madame’s former days here. Haltingly, mechanically, Nathalie lowered one arm enough to pat him on the head as he nestled even deeper into her. Like he had missed the feeling of being embraced by a maternal figure. Even if she wasn’t necessarily returning it.

MLB

“Whatever he’s asked you to do for him, the answer is no,” Gabriel said without looking up from his paperwork as Nathalie’s presence was announced and she entered his office.

“How do you know that what I’m here about has anything to do that whatever it is you’ve said?” Nathalie raised a brow at him.

“You don’t normally come to visit me in the middle of the day, much less when you’re supposed to be teaching my son. There have been no reports of a death in your immediate family so I can only imagine Adrien convinced you to champion some ridiculous idea on his behalf.”

“Has this sort of thing happened before?”

“All the time,” Gabriel stopped his writing, looking down at the desk with a wistful, melancholic smile, “Well, it used to anyways.”

“When she was here?”

“Yes,” Gabriel replied brusquely, “So, you’ve come all this way. I might as well hear what I’m saying no to before I repeat myself.”

Nathalie saw no point in beating around the bush, “He wants to have a party, for his friends.” she told him.

“And who, may i ask, are these friends he claims to have?”

“The stable boy, Nino, and Alya the maid. Though to be honest I think the only reason he wants to go through all this to meet the baker’s daughter in person.”

“He’s been corresponding with the baker’s daughter?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

“Like it or not your grace,” Nathalie shot at his ire, “Adrien will eventually grow up to be a gentleman in the haut ton. He will never be able to snag a fortuitous match without your guidance if he does not know how to properly interact with the opposite sex. The baker’s daughter is good practice for writing letters to a female.”

“And I suppose you feel letting him have a soiree with the dregs of society under my roof is a good idea?”

“One,” Nathalie pointed out, “They are not the dregs of society and you know it. And two, if he’s insistent on spending time with them is it not far better for him to do so under a place where you have absolute control and supervision? He truly wants this and I’ve very little doubts that if you refuse to host it here he’ll find some way to do it behind your back.”

“You seriously think that I can allow commoners into my home to fraternize with my child as though they are members of polite society? You think I can allow commoners  _ to _ mingle with polite society? Because I assure you that if word gets out, and it  _ will  _ get out, that the Agreste family is throwing a party all the gossips’ tongues will wag unless the creme de la creme of the upper echelons gets an invitation.”

“As if they haven’t called you every name under the sun already,” Nathalie remarked dryly, “I seem to recall your name being dragged through the mud quite a bit, especially after news of your nuptials to the madame. A title hunter being the most kind. A philandering sod being the second.”

“I don’t care what they think, I never cheated on my wife.”

“But do you deny the existence of mistresses?”

“I don’t see how that’s your concern.”

“My concern is educating your son to the best of my ability. He’ll never be able to make it in the haut ton if he spends all his days cooped up in this mansion. And since you refuse to let him out, the only solution seems to be to let others in. but, for someone who supposedly doesn’t care about what the gossip rags say about him, you refuse to let your son grow. He will stagnate, and when you inevitably die, your grace, he will have nothing to allow him to function properly. He will be unfit for his duties as your heir, and the family line which you seem to have worked so hard to build will be for naught as it will end with him. Or, more likely, he’ll fall victim to a fortune hunter’s charms and wind up destitute and alone.”

“IU should have you fired for speaking out of turn in such a manner to me,” Gabriel said after a moment. And then there was a pause in which Nathalie began to worry that he would follow through. But then he added, “However, I cannot deny that as usual, you have a point. Fine, make the arrangements, my son’s so-called friends  can be in attendance, but the rest of the guest-list will need to be approved by  _ me _ , and you will need to attend.

Nathalie blinked, “I beg pardon your grace, you want me to attend?”

“I do not want you to attend, I am ordering you.” he clarified, “Since you took it upon yourself to argue for Adrien’s cause I expect you to help oversee it, both the event and its preparation.”

“But your grace I-”

“You were trained in the art of throwing a proper soiree were you not?” he asked imperiously, “As a proper lady you are expected to know this sort of social etiquette, and I expect you not to disappoint me, remember?”

He had her there, she had to admit. “Fine,” she agreed, “I’ll take care of it.”

MLB

It had not been easy work planning this by any means. But with help from Adrien, she’d been able to pull it off and then some. Because her little pupil had decided to add an extra chore. He wanted to have a dress made for little miss Ladybug, his penpal. The only problem, he didn’t have any of her measurements. Which had meant getting Alya to drag the chit away from her ovens, down to the modiste, and get her fitted all under the Agreste name. She had no doubt the Madame would think Adrien a bit young to take a mistress, but she was certain no other explanation would be believed anyways. So long as they kept their mouths shut it was fine.

Nathalie was dressed in a new gown herself. But Gabriel had insisted none of her dresses would be fashionable enough for this party and had ordered her to have a new one made. It wasn’t being taken out of her paycheck so Nathalie didn’t particularly care, even if she did think it a bit of an unnecessary expense altogether. Her hair had been put up with so many pins it near hurt to move, and she’d been made over until her reflection was unrecognizable. And now it was time for the show.

Adrien (as the true host of the evening) stood with his father welcoming the guests at the foot of the ballroom’s entryway. The receiving line was enormous, there were more people here now than Nathalie was certain had ever been before. She paraded down the line and accepted the perfunctory kiss on the hand the gentlemen gave her. Then she stood off to the side to watch as the proceedings opened. It was a smashing success. And Adrien’s face when he saw the baker’s daughter in the dress that had been made for her, it made it all worth it.

Unfortunately, not everyone was having as much fun as the young people. The mamas and the society matrons stood to the sides, fluttering their fans and whispering behind them. Every last move was scruitinized and would likely be reported about by the very next morning. And it wasn’t long into the night before Nathalie saw Gabriel himself sneaking out. Nathalie looked around, struggling to see if anyone else had noticed his absence. It was the kind of thing that could not go ignored. She resolved to go after him, such flagrant disregard for his own party would not go unnoticed.

Just as easily as he had, Nathalie slipped away and went to follow him. She saw a little specter of light float down the hallway, likely his grace having taken a lamp with him to light his way. The light was not so far off in the distance, which made it easy to follow without needing a lamp of her own. And yet, was it just her or was it getting faster, more hurried? She quickened her pace, footsteps muffled once again by that plush carpet Gabriel insisted on having everywhere. Longer and longer she trailed as the light and likely her boss went further and further into the depths of his home. Up the stairs the first floor, the second, Nathalie stopped short as she saw the light head into the stairway leading up to the third. The forbidden floor, the one she’d been expressly instructed never to go to. But Adrien, this party, both needed the presence of the house’s Master, and if Nathalie had to drag him down by the ear, then so be it.

A deep breath to steady her nerves and she went up, up into the unknown. The light had now disappeared. But windows lined every bit of the corridor, their curtains drawn back to fully embrace the silvery radiance that cast shadow on everything, throwing it into sharp gray contrast. There were precious few doors on this floor. But it was the one at the end of the hall, left slightly ajar that caught her attention. Without mounting trepidation overpowered only by her shaky resolve Nathalie marched forth.

MLB

The room was round, and had one great window. White butterflies flitted about here and there. A desk stood off to the side, papers and journals scattered messily over its surface. As though drawn to it Nathalie went to the desk. She disturbed nothing, but she needn’t have. All the evidence was there, scrawled in her employer’s hand. Dates and entries detailing robberies committed, treasure recovered, wealth redistributed. There was only one conclusion to be drawn, Lord Gabriel Agreste was the notorious criminal mastermind Hawkmoth.

She needed to get out of here, but she felt lightheaded with her epiphany and her legs gave out. She sank to the floor, breathing hard. It was like this he found her.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled coldly, “What do we have here?”

Instantly her gaze flew to him, resting against the frame of the door, seemingly without a care in the world. Her mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come out. Her legs shook, but would not support her weight. What could she say? What could she do? There had been no accident in her coming here. But saying she had been looking for him sounded flimsy at best, even it it actually  _ was _ the truth. So she said nothing, trying desperately to quash the well of primal emotions that clawed at her inside. She wanted to fight, she wanted to flee, she wanted to forget all of this, she wanted to go back in time and stop herself from ever noticing his grace’s absence. Instead Nathalie merely cast her eyes to the floor. Surely she would be fired for this, or worse, she would die.

His footsteps echoed ominously off the concave walls, stirring the insects into short bursts of flight. Closer, closer until they stopped. And then there was a hand on her chin, forcing her to look up at him. That was their dynamic, she was looking up, while he looked down at her. Belatedly she registered the sensation of the soft gloves on his hands as they slid down to loosely grasp her neck, putting noticeable pressure on her windpipe. This was is, she was going to die. But though she feared, she did not show it. One by one she shut her emotions down with logic. She had been ordered not to go to the third floor, yet she had. She had disobeyed her employer’s most important rule, a rule she realized had been just as much for her protection as his own.

“I should kill you for this,” he murmured, thumbs pressing downward, “You will pay with your head.”

Nathalie gave an infinitesimal nod. Her eyes closed and her breathing calmed. She was ready to meet death, it was what she deserved. So how strange it was to her, that the pressure that should have come to her throat was instead placed against her mouth. Lips, warm and pliant moving fervently against her own. Nathalie was in shock and out of reflex jerked away. She was panting, a hand went to her throat, tracing the areas where the sensation of what she thought to be her doom remained.

“I, what-” she couldn’t form words, thoughts coming and going too fast to be coherent.

“I kissed you,” Gabriel replied as he remained crouched down on his haunches, “I thought that would have been fairly obvious to figure out, especially for a woman of your intellect.”

“Yes, but,” Nathalie was incredulous, “You said you would never-”

“And you said that you would never come to the third floor,” Gabriel parried, looking as unaffected as ever, “And if you see fit to flout the rules you’ve agreed to I see no reason as to why I shouldn’t do the same. Besides, I did say you would pay,”

“With my head,” Nathalie reminded him.

“Yes, with your head. Your  _ maiden _ head.”

He moved forward, as though to embrace her but with sudden vigor in her limbs Nathalie skittered back.

“Why?” she asked him, “Why are you doing this?”

“Tit for tat my dear Mlle. Sancoeur,” Gabriel replied, “It’s as simple as that.”

Nathalie shook her head, “No not that,” she clarified, “Why are you Hawkmoth? Have you always-”

“I came into my first set of riches all on my own, thank you very much.” Gabriel explained, “However, when my wife disappeared I was convinced it wasn’t so simple as everyone else wished to believe it. I started researching, trying to find a way to bring it back. Eventually I stumbled on the solution I’d been seeking. Getting the butterfly brooch is but the first step. You see, there exists in our world mystical objects, known as the Miraculous. Of all the known miraculous, the two most powerful are that of the Ladybug and the Black Cat. separate, they are immensely powerful, with the powers of creation and destruction respectively. But when combined they can give the user enough power to warp the laws of reality itself. Like granting someone’s most fervent wish.”

“You’re going to use them to bring her back,” Nathalie surmised.

“Exactly,” Gabriel affirmed, “However, tracking them down has been a bit more… difficult than I would have preferred. I did, fortunately, manage to get my hands on another,” he pulled away his cravat to reveal a glimmering purple jewel pinned to his collar, “With the power of the butterfly miraculous I can send out minions like shadows, granting them the power to steal from my targets without being harmed or caught. I’ve yet to find these valuable items even targeting the most wealthy people in Paris, but I am determined to succeed.”

“If you’re so certain you’re going to get her back,” Nathalie shot, “Then why even bother with me?”

Gabriel tutted, clicking his tongue at her, “Because my dear, dear governess. You stumbled upon something you shouldn’t have, and now you know far more than you should. You need to pay a price for what you’ve learned. But I think you far too capable to kill. Besides,” he gave her a leery grin, “I’ve been lonely, and you don’t hate it half as much as you feign to.”

“I,” she started, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The brooch gives me empathic powers Nathalie,” Gabriel said as he prowled towards her, “I can tell what you’re really feeling, and I can tell when your feelings bely your words, which means I always know when you’re lying.”

“And if I’m not feeling anything?”

“All the more to my benefit,” he brushed the objection aside, “Because it would give me no greater pleasure than to see you become a mess at my hands.”

He was looming over her now, she’d been caught completely and utterly. But another protest still had to be made. Still, like he said, he could sense her uncertainty, and decided to prey upon it.

“Tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he whispered in her ear, “dreamed about it, been curious as to what it could possibly be like. Tell me you haven’t seethed with jealousy as all those wanting wallflowers were plucked while you, far more competent, far more capable, far more superior in practically every way were left on your own.” he dropped a teasing kiss to her neck, reveling in the way she tilted her head to allow her more access, “Tell me Nathalie, what self-doubt you must have had. Thinking there was something wrong with you, that that had to be the reason why you were left behind and that if you could only fix it you would get to join in on the fun.”

Nimble fingers reached behind her and started plucking the lacings of her gown apart one by one. And when the back of her dress was left gaping those same hands moves to her hair, the pins clattering to the floor with a tinkling sound as they were slid from her curls. Far more disheveled than society dictated she could be, he continued,

“But I’ll let you in on a little secret Nathalie,” Gabriel cajoled, laving her ear for just a moment and smirking when he heard the hitch in her breathing, “There’s  _ nothing _ wrong with you. Those little boys were the ones with the problem. They could never hope to match you in anything, and so they chose the lower hanging fruit, leaving you all alone.”

The words were doing their job exceptionally. Nathalie’s eyes were closed, taking in the accolades and platitudes. She had wanted to hear someone say those words for so long, and even if he didn’t mean it, they were still invaluable to her.

“Still,” he murmured, sliding the sleeves of her gown down her arms, leaving her dressed in her thin chemise from the waist up, “I suppose I do owe them some thanks. If they hadn’t been so weak, I wouldn’t have you here now.”

She groaned softly. Game, set, match, check, and mate. She was his.

MLB

“Stop,” she pleaded softly, “Please stop.” his touches, his gaze, all evanescent and fleeting. It awoke in her sensations she’d heretofore never experienced, “I feel strange.”

“That’s the point is it not?” Gabriel asked, in just as much a state of undress as she, “I don’t want to leave you with a wholly unpleasant experience, since I intend to repeat the performance. However,”

“However wha-” the last half of her question was cut off on a gasp.

“I’m afraid this little liaison will have no… culmination for you,” he said, a cruel grin shining in the silvery light.

“But, why?” Nathalie panted.

He leaned close and kissed her, long and slow and arduous. And when he drew back he gave her her answer, “If it was supposed to feel good, it wouldn’t be a punishment.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Leave a comment and let me know. Until next time


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